


99 Problems and Summer Camp is All of Them

by TenSpencerRiedPlease



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Crack, I Don't Even Know, Inappropriate Humor, Is there a tag for that?, Oblivious, Sam Wilson is a Gift, weird mental health humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 18:08:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7855699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenSpencerRiedPlease/pseuds/TenSpencerRiedPlease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Bucky spent one more day listening to ‘we’re alive, alert, awake, enthusiastic’ in some fucking horrible sing song tune he was going to throw himself off the nearest cliff. He had been up nearly all night because his bed was harder than a porn star’s dick, he listened to whiney fucking kids cry all night, he was a night owl by nature, and his anxiety kept him from sleeping anyways. </p><p>Someone taps his shoulder, “you don’t look enthusiastic,” some rando, Sam, says. The guy looks freakishly alert and enthusiastic and Bucky kind of wants him dead. </p><p>“I want to die,” he says dramatically and unironically. If a meteor hit this horrible ass little camp he would personally find Jesus and shake his hand assuming he didn’t go to hell first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	99 Problems and Summer Camp is All of Them

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoodSourceofFiber](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodSourceofFiber/gifts).



> There's a lot of morbid mental health jokes in this, some recreational drug use, and I think that's it. If not let me know.

If Bucky spent one more day listening to ‘we’re alive, alert, awake, enthusiastic’ in some fucking horrible sing song tune he was going to throw himself off the nearest cliff. He had been up nearly all night because his bed was harder than a porn star’s dick, he listened to whiney fucking kids cry all night, he was a night owl by nature, and his anxiety kept him from sleeping anyways. The only thing he was enthusiastic about on any given morning was going the fuck back to sleep but in this particular instance he had a bad night and getting up at six thirty in the morning what his personal definition of hell on earth. Right now he was fully convinced that this god damn church camp was invented to torment him personally and he blamed Steve for all of this.

Normally Bucky was more than happy to sleep his entire summer away ignoring his mothers somewhat annoying jokes about him hibernating. But Steve, because he was intent on being a productive member of society, roped Bucky into being a productive member of society too and he was hating every minute of it. The highlight to his day was sneaking away to get high with Stark at lunch and getting busted by his boyfriend, who was far more serious than his frankly quite ridiculous counterpart. All the kids loved Tony because he let them all do whatever they wanted while Rhodey tried to actually make them do things. Bucky almost felt bad for the poor guy because Tony ruined all his efforts but Rhodey didn’t seem to mind any.

Someone taps his shoulder, “you don’t look enthusiastic,” some rando, Sam, says. The guy looks freakishly alert and enthusiastic and Bucky kind of wants him dead.

“I want to die,” he says dramatically and unironically. If a meteor hit this horrible ass little camp he would personally find Jesus and shake his hand assuming he didn’t go to hell first. Alright so the chances of him getting into anyone’s heaven but maybe Steve’s was pretty fucking slim but in the meantime he’d have fun lamenting with Tony about being an atheist in a church camp. Turned out Tony was actually some obscure millionaire but he hated it at home so he managed to snag a job at a freaking _church camp_. Plus, according to Rhodey, he had been whining and crying about not being able to see Rhodey for four months so this was his way to solve all his problems but apparently no one told him about the early morning part. Bucky had that in common with him because all Steve said was that it was a job and there were kids. Bucky figured fine, kick a ball at some kids of a couple minutes and make money, great, but Steve neglected to mention that he was basically a glorified babysitter and he had to get up at the crack of dawn.

“Wow, that’s pretty dark for six in the morning,” Sam says, giving him a worried once over, probably not finding himself any less worried by the Bucky Barnes Aesthetictm. He knew full well he looked like a particularly ratty homeless man with his long, knotted and unwashed hair, the dark circles under his eyes, and the scowl on his face.

“You know what else is dark? The fucking sky,” Bucky says, pointing at the technically now light sky. But it was lavender; the sky Bucky preferred was either orange, pink, or black. Because he worked best at _night_. Right now he hated his life and everyone in it.

“Alright, I’m just gunna leave you be,” Sam says, wandering away to go harass someone else that would take his peppy bullshit in the morning. He picks Steve, which is honestly for the best because Steve was peppy all the time. When they were young they were equally peppy but then Bucky got into a nasty car accident and he lost all reason to live so now they were sort of opposites. It was for the best, two extremely peppy people in the morning should not exist, hell; _one_ peppy person in the morning shouldn’t exist.

“I think you and Tony secretly belong together,” Rhodey tells him. Tony gives Rhodey an evil look, just as tired as Bucky and sporting under eye circles even darker than his own.

“I am made to sleep,” Tony mumbles, blinking one eye at a time slowly.

“You’re an insomniac, honey, you are made for the opposite of sleep,” Rhodey points out. Tony’s head slips off his hand and his face lands in his bowl of cereal, blowing a few bubbles when he breathes out. Rhodey pulls him out before he drowns in his own milk.

*

“Call me at three a.m I’m fine, call me at six a.m I will literally murder you,” Tony says. He looks slightly less dead than he did earlier that morning, the wonders of coffee, but he and Bucky were both under the impression that Jesus would want them to sleep in if he had any love for him at all.

“Same. Three a.m is the right time to help friends, six a.m is the time to lose them.” He’s threatened Steve with it too, calling to ask to go _running_. Bucky did not run, and if he was running something was coming and everyone else should run too.

“Agreed, pass that joint,” Natasha says, coming around the corner fast. Tony nearly jumps out of his own skin, looking like he just got an adrenaline rush from that. He meets Natasha’s demand though; passing the joint over so Natasha could take a deep drag. “I briefly thought I wanted kids and now I’m more than ecstatic that I have a non-functioning uterus. Score one for Natasha, zero for biology,” she says, grinning.

“Think we should watch kids high?” Bucky asks, suddenly having a moral epiphany. Technically they weren’t watching kids for like another two hours but _still_.

“Probably not but my parents used to watch me drunk and my dad let me use power tools. Can’t be more irresponsible than that though to be fair if I was my mother I’d be an alcoholic too. My dad doesn’t have an excuse and honestly I feel like he should use his many dollars to buy himself a better personality,” Tony says flippantly. Bucky might be a bit horrified by that if his lunch didn’t start with Sam asking him if he was alright or if he needed anything and Bucky telling him he needed a reason to live. Sam had made a face and nopped the hell out of there real fast and that was how he and Tony started their drug affair on this particular lunch break.

“The day my dad died was the best of my life,” Natasha says wistfully.

“Jesus Christ, I thought my life was depressing but you two take the cake and the ice cream too,” Bucky tells them, shaking his head.

*

Steve looks so uncomfortable with all the tiny children staring at him and trying to touch his chest and finally Bucky takes pity on him. “Alright small children, back up, it’s not cool to pet people who have no interest in being pet. Also you’re children, I feel like that should be emphasized here,” he says, shooing the children away. Technically they were like fourteen but the fact that they were all thirsty for Steve was as weird as it was hilarious. Poor Steve was too good for this world because he had no clue how to beat them all off and most of the time he was surprised he got any attention at all. He was still used to being skinny despite having gone through that growth spurt forever ago.

One small child, though, is particularly brave and narrows her eyes at him, “you’re just jealous because we think he’s cuter than you,” she says.

Bucky swears to god he’s never laughed so hard in his entire life. He laughs so hard Steve tells him to stop being _mean_ because he goes on for so long. “Oh my god, trust me I am not jealous that I don’t have a bunch of children harassing me all day. Go harass someone your own age,” he says, shooing them off again. They slink back to the beach, sending him dark glares all the way but all that gets them is a happy wave. Steve smacks his hand down and reiterates the mean comment. Bucky adds a wide grin to his wave to be an even bigger ass.

“Oh for gods sakes Bucky, this is why Sam is worried about you. Did you seriously tell him you needed a reason to live at lunch?” Steve asks, looking mildly horrified. Bucky starts giggling and Steve’s eyes narrow, “are you high?” he asks.

“No,” Bucky lies. He was barely buzzed; Steve had no clue what he was talking about.

“You’re at a _church camp_ ,” Steve hisses but all that does is make Bucky laugh harder.

“I’m sure Jesus is fine with a good time, Stevie, now I’m gunna go nap for the rest of my life,” Bucky says, snickering as he walks away.

*

Bucky didn’t know prayer circles were a legit thing but here he was, sharing a horrified look with Tony, who was trying his best to hide behind Rhodey so he doesn’t have to pray for something. Unfortunately Rhodey was not feeling forgiving today because he shoves him out from behind him just in time to be spied by the leader of this particular activity and called out. “Um,” Tony says, panic evident on his face, “I could really go for a taco right now.”

“Amen to that!” Clint yells from across the circle, cookie half in his mouth because the guy was _never_ without food. Bucky had no idea how he didn’t weight a ridiculous amount of weight. Rhodey looks _so_ enthused with Tony’s answer and Tony, bless his soul, looks horrified.

Sam, who has taken up residence next to him, gently bumps his shoulder, “what about you?” he asks, smiling softly. That guy was way too cute to be in a _church camp_ , he should be in like an action movie with shit blowing up around him as he walked away, unfazed by the shockwaves the bombs sent out.

“I could go for a sense of purpose. Maybe some socks, but to be fair I don’t need Jesus for that. Oh, and if he could lowkey get rid of my highkey depression that would be sweet,” Bucky says in a chipper tone, grinning.

Sam frowns at him, “I think you need therapy, not Jesus.”

“I did that for a year and I hated it so I figure I’ll just eat my feelings because I’m going to die anyways, who cares if it’s at thirty.” He’s accepted it, plus hot dogs were amazing even if they were weirdly expensive. His mac and cheese plus whatever the hell Steve brought him once a week to make sure he didn’t get scurvy was good enough for him.

Sam presses his hand to Bucky’s shoulder and squeezes gently, “I’m here for you,” he says.

“Why?” Bucky asks, snorting skeptically. “Look man, that’s nice but nah,” he says, picking up Sam’s hand and removing it from his shoulder. Steve gives him a look from across the circle and Bucky shrugs because _what_? It wasn’t his fault that was weird.

*

Rhodey looks so done with Tony’s shit but this was Day Three of No Sleep for him so he was done with far more things than Rhodey. “Look man, do you want your sandwich cut in triangles or halves?” he asks sassily.

“Cut it into stars,” Tony says, looking irritated with this line of questioning. Rhodey rolls his eyes at him and walks off to get his sandwich because no matter how much Tony whined and cried about near everything Rhodey still loved him. Also he managed to finagle some thing that got them WIFI on this god-forsaken island and that was reason enough to love him unconditionally.

When Rhodey returns he drops a paper plate in front of Tony and for a second Tony just stared before he lifts up a star shaped sandwich and looks at Rhodey in surprise. Rhodey grins at him, looking pleased with himself and Bucky is pretty sure he just witnessed the greatest passive aggressive joke in history. “You’re my soul mate,” Tony blurts out.

“I know honey, now eat that because honestly I worked hard for those damn stars,” Rhodey tells him. Tony stares at the stars in awe for a moment before he gently bites off one of the star legs, chewing slowly as he contemplated his life.

“Hey,” someone, Sam, says before dropping into a seat beside Bucky and scaring the hell out of him. “Jeeze, bit jump aren’t you?” he asks, looking concerned.

“Ahh, see with your average insomniac you have to avoid sudden movements or they get confused, like so,” Rhodey says, waving his hand in front of Tony’s face. Tony blinks in confusion, trying to locate the moving limb mostly unsuccessfully because it was already gone. “You need to sleep, man, _after_ you eat,” Rhodey tells him when Tony decides sleeping _now_ on his sandwich was a good plan.

“Uh, noted? But anyways, we’re taking some of the older kids out to that island tomorrow, wanna come?” he asks, giving him a winning smile that was far too attractive to be on some dude at summer camp. Weren’t they supposed to only be hot on T.V?

“What time is this?” he asks more out of politeness than anything.

“We have to get going by five a.m,” Sam tells him.

Bucky lets out a sharp laugh, “I won’t get up at that time for any man, including Jesus,” he says.

“Good think I’m neither a man nor Jesus, you’re going to get your raccoon looking ass out there Barnes, and you’re going to _like_ it,” Natasha says, butting into the conversation to jab her finger in Bucky’s face and inform him of tomorrow’s activities.

“Okay fine, like I guess,” he says, somewhat threatened by Natasha’s pointy finger.

“Good,” she chirps, walking off to go harass someone else. Steve, actually, and from the blush on his face he’s happy about her presence. Huh.

*

He glares at Sam, who is happy and alert as always, and silently prays to a god he doesn’t much believe in that lightening fucking strikes him dead so he can leave this dying planet and go the fuck to sleep. “Hey man, you excited?” Sam asks him in a too fucking chipper tone.

“Unless we’re going to go fucking drown in that lake I am not excited for any of this,” he says bluntly. Steve makes a face because apparently he was coming too and Natasha was off to the side snickering at him. She was freakishly alert too and he hoped that all her bras got ruined and all of her panties went missing. And while he was at it he hoped all of Sam’s underwear went missing too because honestly why have too many unnecessary layers between an ass like that and the rest of the world? That was a fucking tragedy.

“Oh wow, you went straight for… death. Well, I mean hopefully that doesn’t happen so uh, it should take two hours to get there,” Sam says awkwardly, fidgeting in mild discomfort.

“Oh my god, two _hours_? You know what, I am going to go the hell back to sleep because I do not need to be moving this early in the day. That is a sin against god,” he says before he remembers that he’s at a fucking _church camp_ so that might be a tad inappropriate.

“You get your ass in that canoe, Barnes, or you won’t be moving again _ever_ ,” Natasha threatens.

Bucky lies down on the ground, “bring it on, send me into the abyss,” he mumbles into the dirt.

“God, Buck, stop being melodramatic and get up. We need four councilors so you can’t back out or you’ll disappoint the kids,” Steve tells him.

“You think I _care_ about disappointing children? Live sucks, they might as well learn now,” Bucky laments.

“You’ll disappoint _me_ ,” Steve says and Bucky lets out a long groan because now he _had_ to go. Disappointing Steve was like kicking a sick puppy, it was fucking cruel and people who did that needed to be sent to jail for their crimes. Sam grins as he peels himself off the ground to prepare for a weekend of disappointment.

*

Bucky has been staring at this weird ass poem for like forty minutes and honestly he cannot decode it. Finally he leaves the nasty smelling sweaty portapotty probably smelling like literal ass and contemplating his life. When Sam spies him he all but runs over with a giant grin on is face, “hey man, we’re about to roast marshmallows, want some?” he asks.

“Have you seen that weird as poem about mosquitoes that is freakishly dark for, you know, _mosquitoes_?” he asks. If he’s the only one who has seen that shit he’s going to be real freaked out because that was how horror movies started. The only reason he was convinced that maybe this wasn’t a horror movie is because Sam, the token black man, was still alive.

Sam makes a face, “oh, the mosquito poem. Yeah I thought I was about to die when I read that thing too, who the hell even writes stuff like that about mosquitoes?” he asks, genuinely thrown. Probably because he was a freakishly happy human who seemed completely unaware of the shit planet he was currently on. Bucky, however, was aware that shit like serial killers, poverty, and Lucky Charms with actual cereal in it were ruining this world.

“People who are aware that mosquitoes are blood sucking parasites that are often diseased,” he says.

“Damn man, are you okay? Like for real, because you whip that shit out a lot and I am starting to actually worry about you,” Sam says. He’d laugh at that but Sam looks like he’s actually worried about Bucky’s health and that was sweet in it’s own weird way.

“It’s a coping mechanism mostly, it drives my mom nuts but I’d rather say it out loud than think it all day and have it drive _me_ nuts. Plus it’s funny in a sort of dark, morbid way.” Sam gives him a ‘yeah okay’ look but he pulls Bucky over to the fire he had going and he’s even nice enough to try and separate him from the children. The fact that he makes Bucky marshmallows was touching until he accidentally burnt them all. Bucky takes over marshmallow duty after that and they come out pretty and golden but best of all they were edible.

*

Natasha hunts him down sometime after noon and squints at him, “is like… Steve gay or something?” she asks bluntly. Luckily for Steve Bucky was not as blind to things as he was.

“No, he’s bisexual but if you want to get the point across that you’re hitting on him you’re going to have to all but shove a finger up his ass,” Bucky tells her.

Natasha nods for a moment, “noted Barnes. Are you as oblivious or…?” she asks, waving a hand around.

“Uh, no? Unlike Steve I know when people are trying to hit on me, thanks.” He did not spend most of his life being ignored by potential sexual partners like Steve and he knew how to pick up the right vibes.

“Yeah, okay. You’re on stars duty with Sam and the kids tonight,” she tells him and he groans.

“Get Steve to go, I hate kids.”

“And you’re working for a summer camp full of kids because…?” she trails off, arching a red brow.

“It isn’t my fault I’m a slave to the capitalist demon okay, I just want money so I don’t die in the fall.”

“God you’re fucking morbid, I have no idea why Sam likes you,” she mumbles.

“That makes two of us but _damn_ does he have a nice ass.”

*

“He likes you, trust me, or at least your ass anyways. He said you have a nice ass,” Natasha tells him. Sam had his doubts and honestly he has never been turned down so hard or in such morbid ways before. Bonus points to Bucky for creativity honestly, even if Sam could have done without.

“ _Trust_ me, I’ve known him since we were eating sand out of nasty ass sand boxes, he likes you. I’m just not sure he knows it yet,” Steve says. Sam gives him a look for that because that straight up sounded fake. “What? Bucky has a terrible time distinguishing between his never ending despair and everything else now. Mostly he’s just really confused but if you wait him out he’ll figure out what’s going on,” Steve says.

“Wow, Rogers, taking lessons from Bucky’s morbid sense of humor, huh?” Natasha asks, giving him an overly flirty grin. Steve, because he must have lived his life in a goddamn bubble his whole life, remains completely oblivious to Natasha’s advances.

“I… well… I mean I guess,” Steve stutters out.

“Yeah, great, want to have sex?” Natasha asks, going straight to the point. Steve and Sam both turn bright red and Sam books it the hell out of there while Steve stutters out a shaky agreement.

He finds Bucky looking as surely as always with the kids milling around him, looking happy to see Sam because none of them liked Bucky at all. He gathers the children onto the damn trail, making sure to snatch the stragglers that were looking to go sneak off and undoubtedly do something stupid. Like that one time last year that one girl got pregnant and that was not something he was prepared to be responsible for. You would think a church camp would be innocent but it was honestly a cesspool of dumb teenagers and homosexuality. Take Tony Stark for example, that guy should not be anywhere near Jesus or anything church related but here he was, making random sex jokes that went straight over the kids heads while Rhodey looked on in horror.

They were at least a cute couple even if he sometimes wondered about their odd expressions of love but here he was, chasing after booty that was more interested in making the most macabre comments Sam’s ears had ever had the misfortune of listening to. He probably didn’t have the right to judge Tony’s odd nicknames for Rhodey, or Rhodey’s cutting Stark’s sandwiches into stars.

The children mostly stay in line, probably terrified of Bucky in the dark and honestly he was a little frightening wearing all black scowling with his long hair hanging in his face. They manage to make it to the small clearing to see the stars and Sam releases them to be free so he could romance Bucky because this was some romantic shit, okay, if this did not lift his mood he didn’t know what would. That, of course, is when some asshole kid decides it would be hilarious to toss a spider at Bucky. Bucky doesn’t freak out because he’s apparently either got a death wish or he was a totally normal human, but Sam is terrified of spiders. So he does what terrified people do and lets out an ear splitting shriek and punches the spider. Which was on _Bucky_ , because nothing said ‘lets date’ like punching them full force in the gut and having them drop to the ground wheezing.

That’s gets all of three seconds of laughs before Sam turns to the children, “I don’t know which one of you little assholes threw that but you do _not_ throw spiders at people,” he snaps, “that is how you die, I am _not_ dying because someone threw a man eating eight legged creature at me”. It wasn’t his proudest moment, calling literal children assholes, but he really did not like spiders and he liked to remain blissfully ignorant to their presence in the forest even if he knew that was dumb.

On the ground Bucky starts wheezing, which turns into laughter, which turns into him laughing uncomfortably hard at Sam’s outburst. “They threw the spider at _me_ ,” Bucky says, “and you can rest assured, that spider and my diaphragm are dead.”

“Sorry,” Sam mumbles. “Go explore or something, you’re in a forest at night, aren’t you supposed to be curious?” he asks the kids, shooing them away. They all sulk into the dark, beams of flashlights exposing where they were in the clearing. “Stay in the clearing!” he yells when some dumbasses go off to explore the actual forest. Honestly, how the hell else was he supposed to keep track of them? He wasn’t psychic and they knew it, there was more than enough clearing to explore. He looks back to Bucky, “and you, I have been trying to get you to laugh and actually like stuff for like the last week and _punching_ you achieved that?” he asks. Unbelievable, his talent for flirting was lost on this one and he damn well knew he was cute enough to skate by on his pretty face.

“I have crippling depression, happiness isn’t in the cards for me,” Bucky says.

“Jesus Christ we’re back to this again,” Sam mumbles.

“Isn’t that like… against god?” Bucky asks.

“Oh like you care. We all know that we’re here because we wanted a job, except Steve. He actually does the god thing, which is fine because he’s not preachy about it,” Sam says. Not like that one guest speaker that made everyone uncomfortable with what was thinly veiled hate speech but he got ousted quickly because this was a liberal church camp, thank god.

“True. But he does get preachy about social justice so if you’re not aware of that it can be jarring but he’s trying to make the world better so. Also wait what, you’ve been spending the week trying to make me happy? Dude, making me get up at the ass crack of dawn makes me want to die, not be happy.” So maybe that wasn't the best course of action but Sam was doing his best to be cute okay, and Steve was plenty happy in the morning, Bucky should take note.

“Everything makes you want to die,” Sam says more out of frustration with that spider, which was still lowkey freaking him out, than anything.

“Yeah pretty much,” Bucky chirps in far too chipper a tone.

“Oh my god. You know what, look at the stars, ain’t that romantic?” he asks, hastily changing the subject with perhaps the worst transition in history.

“No not really, I’m being eaten alive by mosquitoes and honestly that poem is really freaking me out right now,” Bucky says.

“Well you’re in luck because I can protect you with the power of bug spray,” Sam says, pulling the bottle out of his pocket with a flourish and spraying Bucky down with it.

“Thanks. That got in my eyes but thanks,” he says. By the time they made it back to the tents he sort of wanted to drown in that lake too. How many attempts at romance can one man fail at? Jesus take the wheel.

*

“Aww, he likes you,” Tony says twenty minutes too late into breakfast with Sam sitting beside him. Apparently being well rested did not make Tony any more alert in the mornings.

“Yes, I gathered that when he sucked my dick last night,” Bucky says just a bit too loudly because it draws attention and he ducks into his runny scrambled eggs and prays for death to take him now.

“Congrats. I’ve been so god damn tired this whole week I forgot I had a dick until you mentioned it,” Tony says. Rhodey sighs and pushes Tony’s food closer to him, a silent instruction to eat and stop being embarrassing. “You know you love me, honey bee,” he says, grinning.

“I’d sell you to Satan for a decent WIFI signal,” Rhodey says without missing a beat.

“I’d take a candy corn for you,” Tony quips back and Sam bursts out laughing. “Actually I wouldn’t, that’s really mean and also I love you too much. No one else cuts star sandwiches for me.”

“Well, no one else managed to get me a decent WIFI signal but you so I guess I like you,” Rhodey says. Tony looks hilariously offended by this and Rhodey sighs, “okay fine, I love you too but I do not like that you steal all the blankets and pillows.”

“Well I don’t like that you snatch pillows out from under my head and smack me with them until I give you some blanket.”

“Whatever works,” Rhodey says with an unrepentant shrug. They continue to bicker and both he and Sam shake their heads at them.

“I am not responsible for the rumors that will go around about us over your false dick sucking statement, by the way. But if that’s what you wanted you could have just said so,” Sam says, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows at him.

“Buddy, you were too busy trying to get me to be a morning person but if you’re willing I am here for that. Natasha probably has some good hidey holes, we can ask her for advice because nothing is less sexy than being caught by kids in the act, for real.” It has happened to him exactly one time and it was a horrifying experience for everyone involved but mostly that poor kid.

“Oh honey, way ahead of you, no one stays in my cabin,” Sam says, grin growing wider.

“I am so jealous I am sleeping with you forever, stick some other sorry sap with the kids in my cabin because I am moving into yours.” He heard one of these lucky assholes got a cabin to themselves and he was going to take full advantage of Sam’s romantic and sexual interests in him to capitalize on that sweet perk. His momma did not raise a fool.


End file.
